


5 Times Din Beat the Hunters Tracking Them, and the 1 Time He Didn’t

by Grumperella



Series: The Mandalorian - Missing Scenes [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Adorable Grogu | Baby Yoda, BAMF Din Djarin, Badass Din Djarin, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Good Parent Din Djarin, Grogu is a klepto, Grogu | Baby Yoda Being a Little Shit, I just wanted to write some fun fight scenes for Din and Grogu, ManDadlorian, Protective Din Djarin, Protective Grogu | Baby Yoda, bar fight!!, basically Din murdering his way across the galaxy to protect his space gremlin son, bounty hunters are after our dynamic duo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grumperella/pseuds/Grumperella
Summary: [On Hiatus until Febuwhump is over]___“You’re dead, Mando.” The hunter snarled between heavy pants as he dodged another blaster bolt and launched himself at the beskar clad fugitive, slashing savagely at the Mandalorian who hastily raised both vambraces together to block the attack. Far outweighed by his adversary, the swipe sent the man reeling back as his gun flew violently out of his grip and clattered down the alleyway. The wolfman’s smile was feral as he lunged again, sharp claws outstretched.___I decided to write up some fun and wholesome (read: murder-y) adventures for our favorite space dad and his gremlin son. These are slice of life-on-the-run snippets/interludes that may take place any time between Ep 4 SANCTUARY and Ep 14 THE TRAGEDY.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda
Series: The Mandalorian - Missing Scenes [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055501
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87
Collections: Genuary 2021





	1. Din vs. the Wolfman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For most of S1 Din has a hefy bounty on his head, not to mention the kid's. Greef may have removed the bounty after the end of S1, but as we saw in S2, there are still plenty of reasons why people might be after this poor father-son duo. So it stands to reason all the snippets we saw in the show throughout S1 and S2 of Din fending off bounty hunters, gang leaders, black market mercs, etc. were just a few of many instances.
> 
> Our first adventure takes place on Aram, a remote tropical planet out in the Brak sector of the Expansion Region. There are few humans on Aram, populated instead by the squat, native Aramandi. Fun fact, Aram has much heavier gravity than human populated worlds, which is why you don't find many visiting the planet... which makes it a great place to hide.

Din scowled beneath his helmet as he raced down the dingy side streets of Maka, Aram’s third largest city, toppling a vendor’s food cart behind him as he ran. Risking a glance back, he caught the vendor’s cry of shocked rage, four stout fists punching into the air, only to be knocked roughly to the ground a moment later as a frothing and growling shistavanen vaulted over the ruined cart, barely breaking the pace of his pursuit.

“ _Shit_.” The Mandalorian huffed breathlessly as he turned full tilt and darted between startled locals and around more carts, cape flapping behind him, before finally seeing a small alleyway break off. Diving around its corner, he flattened himself into an alcove in the wall, waiting for the bounty hunter chasing him to appear.

As if sensing his prey’s attempt at an ambush, the wolf-like creature skidded to a halt after barreling around the corner, but not before Din burst out of his alcove with a rough front kick and a shot from his blaster.

The shistavanen howled as the kick sent him crashing against the alley’s opposite wall, blaster knocked from his clawed grip, and he just barely dodged the plasma bolt meant for his chest. Lashing out his long furred leg in a sweep kick that the Mandalorian easily leap over, the hunter desperately scrambled for his weapon just as Din shot the DH-17 pistol away, melting the barrel. The woflman roared with rage and whipped around.

“You’re _dead_ , Mando.” The hunter snarled between heavy pants as he dodged another blaster bolt and launched himself at the beskar clad fugitive, slashing savagely at the Mandalorian who hastily raised both vambraces together to block the attack. Far outweighed by his adversary, the swipe sent the man reeling back and his gun flying violently out of his grip, clattering down the alleyway. The wolfman’s smile was feral as he lunged again, sharp claws outstretched.

Grunting, Din feinted away from the pounce, slipping right with a simultaneous thrust of his left knee up into the hunter’s gut, using the heavier creatures own momentum against him. The wolfman doubled over with an explosive cough and Din twisted to smash his elbow across the wolf’s snout, sending the creature to the floor with a sickening crunch. Dazed, the shistavanen only just managed to roll away as Din’s boot came slamming down where its head had been. 

Struggling to his feet with a wet growl, the wolfman launched a salvo of needle-like blades from his wrist cuff, one catching Din between his left pauldron and neck before he could raise his vambrace to block the opening. The Mandalorian grit his teeth through the fleeting pain as the rest clinked harmlessly off his armor. 

Din silently cursed his delayed reaction and noted with frustration that he was already heaving breathlessly. Aram’s significantly higher gravity made his _beskar’gam_ feel like weighted magnets that pulled him down to the planet’s dense surface. The shistavanen seemed to be having an equally hard time, fur already matted with sweat and its usual agility turned slow and clumsy.

These hunters were known for their cunning however, and true to his nature, the wolfman was suddenly leaping, clawed hind feet spread and eager to slash down at the man's blind spot directly above him. 

Helmet banking up sharply, Din managed to shoot his arm up just in time to trigger his vambrace’s flamethrower, fire erupting from his wrist. The wolfman howled and toppled from his leap, plummeting to the ground in a writhing, screaming frenzy of flaming fur and burning flesh. Gritting his teeth, the Mandalorian held the flame for a moment longer before the heat vanished and he bolted for his blaster. Sliding to his knees, the warrior scooped it up in one hand and spun around on his knee, barely locking his sight on the crawling, screaming adversary before he’d shot off one, two, three plasma bolts into the already steaming target. 

There was a sharp yelp, a gurgle, and then silence. 

Din gasped heavily in the renewed stillness of the alleyway, winded but alive. He kept the nozzle trained on the bounty hunter for a few more bated breaths. Once he felt sure it was dead, his arm dropped heavily, body slumping, then he reholstered his blaster. Looking down at the thin blade that still protruded from his left shoulder, he reached up irately and ripped it out, swallowing the pained grunt that threatened to choke him as the blade scraped against his clavicle on its way out. Fuming at the red coated blade in his hand, he tossed it on the floor where it clinked softly, then pressed his right palm against the wound. He shuffled across the alleyway, then crouched down to search the still smoking corpse. He wrinkled his nose: even through his helmet’s air filter he could smell the singed hair and cooked flesh… this _shabuir_ had gotten what he deserved though. Rooting around the hunter’s pockets with his left hand, Din pulled away a pouch, then poured its contents onto the alley floor. A tracking fob blinked up at him, along with numerous credits in various currencies.

Brows furrowing, Din scooped up the credits, then stood and smashed the fob with the heel of his boot, satisfied at its dying whine. Not even sparing second glance at the corpse, Din turned and made his way out of the alley, ignoring the indignant stares and whispers of the locals as he retraced his path back to the main square. Taking in the carnage of the street carts they’d plowed through on the way, Din grimaced. He and the bounty hunter had certainly left a mess in their wake… he’d grab the kid and hop a city over to get the rest of their supplies. He had a feeling his money wouldn't be very welcome in Maka after all this.

At the thought of the kid, Din’s pace picked up. He didn’t quite run (he didn’t think he quite had it in him after the full speed chase and battle in heavy gravity…) but his stride was purposeful to the point of anxious as the all encompassing focus of life-or-death instincts gave way to wonderings and “what ifs”.

When Din had first noticed the bounty hunter trailing them, he’d employed subtle deflect and distract tactics to draw the hunter’s attention away as the man had quickly closed the kid’s bassinet and pushed it into a pile of storage crates in between fresh produce vendors, tossing an empty vegetable sack over the small floating orb. 

Then, he’d turned away and backtracked, leading the wolfman away from the kid. Once he knew he had the hunter's attention, Din had struck first and darted from the scene. He’d hoped that by drawing the shistavanen away, he could both protect the kid from getting caught in the middle of a firefight, and try to get the upper hand with his opponent at the same time. The wolf-like sentients native to Uvena Prime were formidable creatures to say the least - larger, stronger and faster than humans, with enhanced senses to boot. But, they weren’t unbeatable. Humans were clever and tenacious... he just needed to catch his pursuer off guard.

Luckily, the plan had worked - likely only because the heavier gravity of Aram put the larger creature at as much of a disadvantage as Din’s heavy beskar, if not more so - and now he could finally get back to the kid.

He prayed that he’d stayed put in his locked bassinet, as they’d trained. 

Finally rounding the street corner that emptied into the large town square, Din paused. His eyes raked over the colorful scenery as he tried to reorient himself and remember which stalls he’d tossed the kid between. Seeing the produce vendors across the square, the man quickly pushed his way through the heavy throng of squat, four-armed aramandi. Reaching the stalls, he could see the spherical bassinet still floating silently, now only half covered by the brown sack he’d tossed. A spike of worry shot through him at how exposed it looked. 

Pressing the release on his vambrace, Din closed the last meter to his founding as the cradle’s doors hissed open. A small green head with large, perked ears popped up. 

The child waved a little claw eagerly when he saw his _buir_ , squealing excitedly, and the man heaved an internal sigh of relief.

“Mweh?” the toddler cooed up at the Mandalorian, who now peered down at him through the facade of the emotionless T-visor. The man was still pressing his right gloved palm against the wound in his left shoulder, a thin stream of blood now trickling through his fingers, staining the orange leather tips. The child’s expression wrinkled into a frown and he pointed up at the blood, making insistent noises. 

“Ehhhhh!” Din shook his head and twitched a small smile.

“Hey to you too, kid.”

“Buh! Bhwahwa.” The pointing became more fervent and Din just sighed, then shrugged, wincing at his own stupidity when pain flared up with the motion. 

“I’m _fine_ , _ad’ika_. Nothing a bacta patch won't fix.” Din used his left hand to press the little arms back down into the kid’s lap. The kid knew the rules, no healing unless _absolutely_ necessary, and _especially_ not in public. 

“Maka ended up being a little more exciting than I’d hoped." He mused aloud. "I don’t think we’re very welcome here anymore, so we’ll try the next city over for the rest of our supplies.” Glancing sideways at the bustle of the square, Din still saw locals tossing looks his way, watching them both warily. 

Yep. Better to cut and run.

Reaching behind himself into his bassinet, the child pulled out a small, wrinkled fruit and shoved it into his mouth, munching as he looked up at Din, any worry forgotten.

The man frowned. 

“Where did you get those?” He peered behind the small body to see a little pile of the fruits, as if the kid was hoarding them. _He_ certainly hadn’t bought them… with a flush of chagrin, Din realized the kid must have used his on-again-off-again powers to take what he wanted from the fruit stalls. Straightening stiffly, the bounty hunter glanced right, then left, but none of the vendors seemed to have noticed the kid. Din smirked back down at his foundling, who was shoving another little fruit into his mouth and chomping away.

“You little monkey-lizard. You’re as klepto as a Kowakian.” The child giggled delightedly and waved the half chewed fruit at him, as if he could hear the smile in Din’s voice.

Between the bounty hunter’s corpse, the wanton destruction of property during the chase and now theft, Din figured they were pushing their luck. 

“What do you say, kid, think we’ve caused enough trouble in Maka?” The responding shriek of laughter made him snort. “Yeah, I think so too, let’s get out of here.” 

Tapping the control on his vambrace that would tell the bassinet to follow him, the Mandalorian brushed a hand softly against the kid’s head, then turned to lead them back home to the Razor Crest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mando'a translations:**  
>  beskar’gam - Mandalorian armor  
> shabuir - extreme insult (think, calling someone an asshole, but stronger)  
> Dank Farrik - universal swear word  
> ad’ika - little one, child, son  
> buir - mother/father/parent
> 
> Note: The Shistavanen are colloquially nicknamed "wolfmen", for their lupine appearance, in the Star Wars galaxy.


	2. Din vs. The Mercs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter finds Din on a seedy Mid Rim planet, looking for work. Trouble finds him instead, in a cantina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagined this being sometime in between S1 and S2. This chap is really just BAMF!Din indulgence. Enjoy!

Din could feel their eyes the moment he walked into the cantina. This wasn’t uncommon for him. As the Armorer had said, his full set of _beskar’gam_ , gleaming and unpainted, would draw many eyes. At this point he was both ever vigilant and used to it. His over abundance of caution, though, did often pay off. 

The eyes on him felt different here, heavier. He heard the cantina shush momentarily as he walked in, then resume volume. Something was amiss though… his eyes scanned the room as he stepped further in, looking for abnormal angles, shifting eyes, too subtle movements… _there_. Off to his left, a set of three had pushed off their bar table and floated toward the bar where he was headed, eyes both on him and not. Their attempt at being inconspicuous was laughable. 

With a subtle tap on his vambrace, he tagged them on his helmet’s HUD and enhanced his audio sensors to tap into their muttered conversation.

_“Das pure beskar, gotta be.”_

_“You sure? Haven’t seen a Mando in ages, thought they went extinct? Could be fake… ”_

Din bristled, but showed no outward reaction as he made it to the bar and leaned against it casually, motioning to the barkeep for a glass, purely for appearances. He made sure to lean his right hip against the counter, allowing the small sack that bumped against his left hip free reign to wiggle and squirm as the infant tucked inside poked a small green head up and peeked minutely around the cloak hiding it, just enough to take in the dingy surroundings with wide-eyed interest. The three black market mercenaries continued inching discreetly - or so they thought - towards Din’s position.

_“Essactly, Tarn, ‘e’s probably some fool who bought up the armor, or found it. We ruffle him, then jump ‘im when he leaves, peel that steel off his rutting corpse.”_

_“RRRGGH, UUUGGG”, the Aqualish retorted. The Human scoffed._

_“Well, if ‘e IS a real Mando, there’s three of us ain’t there, and only one o’ him.” The Rodian chuckled in agreement._

Din flicked off his sensor and the sounds of the cantina flowed back in, creating a background cacophony that turned into a familiar white noise. The barkeep placed a glass of spotchka in front of him and flipped one of her lekku over her shoulder impatiently, already being hailed by another patron. 

It only took another few minutes for the trio to finally reach him. They had attempted an intimidation tactic, spreading out and then closing in from all sides to surround him. The Aqualish was on his left, the Rodian on his right, and the Human was stepping up behind him. He felt a hard tap on his shoulder from behind, between the hard pauldron and his cloak. 

“A Mandalorian, huh? Ain’t that somethin’. Well, I got a question for ya.” Din pointedly ignored him, hand toying with the spotchka glass like he was bored. The man behind him grunted in annoyance. 

“Hey, I’m talkin’ ta you.” The Mandalorian didn’t turn, continuing to ignore the Human, who scowled darkly.  
  
“Too good ta look at me, Mando?” Angrily, he shoved the Mandalorian, knocking the armored man into the bar and eliciting a high pitched squeal of protest from somewhere under the man’s cloak when his left hip impacted. The merc grimaced in confusion at the sound, utterly missing the furious stiffening of the Mandalorian’s shoulders.

Without warning, Din burst into motion, throwing an elbow high behind him that smashed into the Human’s face while in the same motion grabbing the glass on the table with his right hand and catapulting it directly into the face of the Rodian beside him where it shattered on impact. He ducked quickly, expecting the punch that the screaming Rodian lashed out, letting it collide with the Aqualish on his left, sending the hairy creature reeling with a roar. Lurching back up he smashed his helmet forward into the Aqualish’s now bloodied face in a forceful headbutt, then spun to catch one-handed the barrel of the blaster the Human behind him had just managed to pull, redirecting the sizzling plasma charge into the ceiling a split second before ripping it out of the man’s hand and pistol-whipping it across his face. The man staggered back and fell to one knee with a cry, cradling his nose.

The Rodian to his right had recovered enough to pull out his blaster and fired off a shot at the Mandalorian, who barely flinched as it pinged heavily against his beskar pauldron and reflected into a hanging bar light, exploding it into pieces. Screams echoed around the room. Turning the stony gaze of his helmet to the green scoundrel, the Mandalorian skillfully flipped the captured blaster in his hand and fired two shots into the Rodian’s chest, then tossed it onto the smoking remains. Head snapping back to his left, he caught the Aqualish making a run for the door, pushing shouting patrons out of the way. Firing his gauntlet’s cable, the wire caught the merc around the neck, which earned a strangled choking sound as he jerked the creature back. Deftly wrapping the cable around his vambrace twice for a better grip, Din _pulled_ with all his might and the Aqualish came flying back towards him, letting out a shriek of fear, and met Din’s chambered fist with a sickening crunch before crumpling to the floor, moaning.  
  
The Human merc, having somewhat recovered despite the bright red blood gushing down his lips and chin, growled ferociously and rose, throwing himself forward at the beskar clad warrior as he popped out concealed vibro-blades into each hand. 

“I’ll karking _kill_ ya!!”  
  
Easily side-stepping the attack, Din lightning-quick threw up his hands around the Human’s right arm, breaking his locked elbow and twisting his arm inwards, using the Human’s own momentum to drive his body directly into the knife. The blade sunk to the hilt in the man’s heaving chest with a slick thud and an agonized howl as the man flailed uselessly with his other arm. Keeping control of the buried vibroblade with one hand, Din used his other to punch the man’s free shoulder right in the inner socket and the man cried out again. He wrenched the second vibroblade out of the now weakened grip and twirled it in his fingers, sinking it’s razor sharp end into the man’s neck with a rough thrust. Bloodshot eyes widened and Din stepped away. The man let loose a surprised gurgle and sank to his knees, wetly coughing up a puddle of blood onto the floor before slumping into it.

Din watched the man bleed out on the floor calmly, surprised that he was mildly out of breath. Clearly, he wasn’t as young as he used to be... Observing the Rodian sizzling on the floor, the hemmoraging human and the moaning Aqualish, he frowned invisibly and sighed. 

Either there was now no chance in a black hole he was picking up a job here, _or_ he’d just given a watching guild agent a free demonstration. Tiredly, he hoped it was the latter. Either way, better not to leave loose ends. The last thing he and the kid needed was a merc with a grudge on their tail. Pulling out his blaster, he discharged a single shot into the Aqualish’s head, abruptly silencing the pained moans. 

There was a soft coo, almost questioning, and Din looked down at his hip, sweeping aside the cloak that hid the kid from prying eyes just enough so that he could see him. The child was peering up at him with a wide eyed expression he couldn’t quite decipher, but hoped wasn’t fear. He reholstered his blaster.

“You okay, kid?” Din murmured lowly, letting his hand brush against one oversized ear, cupping the boy’s head protectively. The responding coo didn’t sound afraid, or pained… but, sad? He was starting to be able to catch on to the kids moods by his tones and expressions, but sometimes the kid was still an enigma to him. He’d have to check the infant over when they returned to the ship later. 

He gave the kid’s head a reassuring pat and glanced back up to survey the cantina. Business had only paused briefly in silent shock at the sudden carnage and now patrons were already getting back to their conversations. Din saw a Lannik sitting easily on a stool towards the back making a waving motion his way. Hm, maybe he’d find some jobs here after all. 

Angling his helmet’s visor up to the pretty blue Twi’lek bartender who had been ducking under the bar during the short altercation, he nodded once, apologetically. She leaned over the counter, scowling down at the corpses on the floor, then turned the scowl on him. He pulled out a few credits and tossed them her way.

“Sorry for the mess.” He said. 

Schooling her disgusted look, the Twi’lek shrugged her bare shoulders and slid the credits into her tip jar.  
  
“Must be Tuesday.” She deadpanned. Glancing back over the bar at the mess on the floor, she started collecting the shards of glass that had scattered when Din smashed the glass into the Rodian’s face. “Human blood is just… ugh. It’s a pain to get out of the floor.” 

Nearly amused by her blasé attitude, Din simply shrugged and made his way around the throng towards the back of the cantina, where a Lannik in a dark purple robe urgently waved him into the seat across from him. 

“Well, well, friend! Never seen you around here before. Just passing through or staying for a while?”

Din sized up the stout creature for a long moment.

“Looking for work. Got any fobs worth over 10k?” The Lannik’s eyes widened and his hands fluttered up to flap around his robes before gripping his lapel’s thoughtfully.

“Not the type for pleasantries, I see? Shame. I may have some jobs fit for the likes of you… you Guild?”

“Yes.” Din responded, giving away nothing else. The Lannik squinted at him, then broke out into a laugh. 

“You Mandos! Always so serious!” Din straightened at that. _Had this agent met others? Recently?_ But the Lannik only continued jovially. “What with the way you took out the T.E.K. mercs like it was a walk in the market, I even have a job I’ve been reserving for an experienced crew that you could probably handle all on your own.” 

“Let’s see the puck.” 

The Lannik smirked and dug into his robes, pulling out four pucks and laying them out on the table, looking through them before pushing one towards the Mandalorian and activating it. 

To Din’s alarm, the holo-image of a flat-topped Wookiee with a distinctive monocle ocular enhancer appeared, a short aurebesh description below it.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Din muttered to himself. Louder, he said, “Snoova?”

The Lannik leaned back, hands clasped on his belly, looking pleased with himself. “Your eyes do not deceive you, Mandalorian. The New Republic has been unable to capture him, despite their best efforts. And _now_ that he’s making waves with the Black Suns, going so far as to smuggle slaves from freed worlds into Hutt Space, they’ve put a mark out on him with the Guild.”

“Snoova’d probably kill half the Guild for trying,” Din shot back sarcastically.

The Lannik’s smirk melted into a scowl. 

“You want the score or not, Mando? It’s a hefy 100k. The New Republic is sparing no expense for this fiend.” The agent’s eyes dragged up and down the Mandalorian’s armored form, drinking in the beskar, weighing its value in his mind, while acknowledging what this man must have accomplished to even be wearing it. “And seeing the way you dropped those three earlier brigands, I have a feeling you might actually give Snoova a run for his money.” 

Din chewed on the inside of his cheek, one hand resting on the bag with the child’s squirming form beneath the table. Tracking Snoova was risky… that was heat he wasn’t looking for. _But_ 100k… 100,000 credits would set them up for a while. They could actually lay low somewhere a while with plenty of credits to last them for food, supplies, ship repairs… maybe even months if he stretched it… the kid could really stretch his legs, get used to some trees… Tch, it was risky though. 

Luckily, his emotionless helmet gave away none of his misgivings. Swiping the puck off the table, he pocketed it and the Lannik bared his teeth in a pleased grin, clapping his hands. 

“Well, _now_ we’re in business, Mando!”

“Got anything else? Anything smaller? I still need fuel and supplies in the meantime. Snoova will be a longer haul.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” The Lannik waved a hand dismissively and pushed two more pucks across the table. 

“Take your pick. A tax evader, a bail jumper. Small change, but easy pickings. Nine thousand and five thousand, respectively.”

Din grunted and tucked the puck for the tax evader into his pocket. Assuming this bounty wasn’t a hassle, that would be just enough to refuel, restock, and prepare for the search for Snoova. Standing, the Mandalorian held out an upturned gloved palm.

“The fobs.”

Scrambling to sit up, the Lannik frowned up at him as he dug around in his robes.

“Leaving already? Not even going to share a drink? It goes a long way toward building trust in a business relationship, you know.” The emotionless stare of the Mandalorian visor bore into the Guild agent until he was sweating, but to his credit, the Lannik didn’t look away. Finally Din spoke. 

“No need for the farce. I don’t trust you. You don’t trust me. But I always get the jobs done, you can reach out for my references from the Guild on Nevarro. Let’s leave it at that.” 

“Hrmph!” Handing over the fobs to the Mandalorian, the Lannik scowled up at him. “My name is Adan Drell. If I am not here when you come to return the pucks, ask after me to the barkeep.” 

With a silent nod, Din took the fobs and turned to stride out of the cantina, cloak sweeping behind him.

It was time to go hunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, moral of the story is: Hurt Mando's baby and he WILL end you. Do not fuck with his kid. ;)
> 
> P.S. The hunt for Snoova will be a separate story. I may not even write the hunt itself (though let me know if you want me to), but rather the fallout of that hunt with Din & Grogu with some intense father-son angst as part of my upcoming “Interludes” story. I have it like 80% written at this point, so keep a lookout for it!


End file.
